


Help

by AJsRandom



Series: Trope Bingo [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJsRandom/pseuds/AJsRandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin goes old after Uther’s death to appear in Arty's dream, to explain his actions. Fills hurt/comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help

Merlin lay in bed the night after Arthur’s coronation. He couldn’t help but think of the event that had led to it and his role _in_ it. Even though Morgana should take most of the blame, he’d cast the spell that had rebounded onto Uther. And now, once again, Arthur had been hurt by magic.

 _There has to be some way to make up for it_ , he thought. Then an insane idea formed in his mind. Maybe he could explain to Arthur what had happened in a way that the new King would _have_ to listen. What place could he get to Arthur like that? _His dreams_. If he could somehow place himself into Arthur’s dreams at night, he could speak to him there. And just maybe he could help the King find some measure of comfort and closure.

He rolled off his bed and lit the candle with a word. Then he pried up the loose floorboard under his bed and took out his spell book. He remembered there being something about talking to someone in their dreams, but had never thought to try it. _Maybe it could have helped Morgana_.

There it was— _Crimman mec into þære mætinge_. And he’d have to disguise himself—the only way he knew how was the aging spell. That was probably for the best anyway. He’d be recognizable at least, which would help him explain his actions and other things he knew.

 _Well, there’s no time like the present_. He pulled out his Dragoon robe and remembered how grateful he was that Gaius now kept spare anti-aging potions around. He replaced the board, picked up his book, and crept out of his room. He made a quick search of the potions, found his and left.

There was a lot of extra security around the castle due to the manner of Uther’s death. But no one would question the presence of the Prince’s- _King’s_ -servant at any hour of the day. Arthur has been known to be up at all hours of the day.

Merlin made it to the King’s chambers with no problem. Once inside, he bolted the door behind him and lit the candle. He was grateful that Arthur was a sound sleeper and the new King was indeed out like a light. He sat his book down then went behind the screen to pull the robe over his head. In a voice just above a whisper he said, “ _Miht dagan, beþecce me. Adeadaþ þisne gast min freondum ond min feondum_.” He instantly felt the shrinking and aches that came with his new advanced age.

He poked his head out from behind the screen and saw that Arthur was still asleep. Next he hobbled out from behind it, picked up his book and dragged a chair to Arthur’s bedside. He sat heavily and opened the book to the right page. He read the spell over a few times then closed his eyes. “ _Crimman mec into þære mætinge_ ,” he said.

Colors immediately sped through his mind and he nearly passed out with the dizziness. Just as he was about to collapse, it cleared up and he found himself standing in the training yard. Arthur was the only one there, running through various training forms. It was silent except for the usual noises the King made while training. It was easy to see why Arthur would dream _this_ —he was at his most relaxed while training because he used it to exorcise his strong emotions.

Merlin began walking toward Arthur, whose back was toward him. When he was a few feet away, he said, “Arthur.”

The King whirled around, slashing his blade toward Merlin’s neck, but stopped right before he would’ve decapitated the warlock. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”

“Well, for one thing, this is a dream so your sword isn’t real.”

Arthur pressed the blade toward Merlin’s neck, but Merlin felt nothing—no blood was drawn and the King saw this. “Fine.” He moved the sword away and chucked it to the ground. “So why are you here? Was killing my father not enough for you? Do you have to taunt me in my dreams too?”

“No sire. I merely seek to explain what _really_ happened to your father.”

Arthur scoffed. “Oh, do tell.” He folded his arms and gave the warlock a searching look.

“The spell was working—you saw that yourself. What you _didn’t_ see was the charm placed around your father’s neck. This charm was enchanted to reverse the effect of any spell incanted in its vicinity. Your father never had a chance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“You didn’t exactly give me the chance! And I didn’t know until later, when I visited Gaius. He was the one who’d discovered the charm.”

“Why didn’t _he_ tell me? And if you aren’t responsible, who is?”

“You were so deep into mourning he felt he couldn’t approach you about it right away. And it was Morgana. I recognized her magic at work in the charm.”

“So why are you telling me about this _now_?”

“I merely wanted to explain what really happened, in the hope that it brings you some comfort. I did nothing wrong. Magic is neither good nor evil; only people are and they choose _how_ to use it. Whether you believe that or not is up to you.”

Arthur looked down for a few moments, thinking deeply. “If what you say is true, and I want to believe it is, then I’m sorry. It’s hard to believe Morgana would kill her own father.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe it’s a hubris of mine, but I’d like to think even she, as far as she’s fallen, wouldn’t do something so depraved.”

“She has indeed fallen far, but it is up to _her_ to change her fate.”

“I know. I just wish she would.”

“So do I.”

Arthur looked up, meeting Merlin’s eyes. “Look, I know I promised you I’d accept those with magic, but I just can’t right now. I’m sorry—it still hurts and I’ve so much to do . . .”

Merlin went to touch Arthur’s shoulder, but stopped short. “I may not like it, but I understand. Maybe someday?”

“Maybe someday. You’ve given me plenty to think about.”

“At least you know.”

“At least I know. And it does bring me comfort, thank you for that.”

“I’m glad.” Merlin looked around. “Well, I’ll leave you to your training then. Sweet dreams.” Before Arthur said anything else, Merlin said, “ _Ende_.” He got the flashing colors in reverse and opened his eyes. He shook his head to clear it then pulled the bottle from his pocket and drank its contents.

Once he was young again, he glanced at Arthur. He could be imagining it, but the new King seemed more peaceful. Merlin smiled at him and dragged the chair back into place. Once he’d doffed the robe, he unbolted the door and went back to bed, feeling like he’d have no problem going to sleep.


End file.
